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52 Now han the beagles scourd the bushy ground, Till where a brooke strays hollow through the bent. When all confusd, and snuffing wyldlie round, In vain their fretful! haste explord the scent: But Reynards cunning all in vain was spent; The Huntsman from his stand his arts had spyd. Had markt his doublings and his shrewd intent, How both the bancks he trac'd, then backward plyd His track some twentie roods, then bounding sprong aside.

Eke had he markt where to the broome he crept, Where, hearkening everie sound, an hare was laid; Then from the thickest bush he slylie lept, And wary scuds along the hawthorne shade, Till by the hills slant foot he earths his head Amid a briarie thickett: Emblem meet Of wylie statesman of his foes adred; He oft misguides the peoples rage, I weet, On others, whilst himself winds off with slie deceit.